


Mouse Trap

by LizzyHN



Series: Strawberry Fields [2]
Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzyHN/pseuds/LizzyHN
Summary: Tora gets an urgent call from Poppy in the middle of the night and finds himself trapped in a situation.
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Series: Strawberry Fields [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873831
Comments: 9
Kudos: 105





	Mouse Trap

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Just finished polishing up this piece to share with the MPL community. It's another personal writing exercise from a while ago to help unblock my brain and get some creativity flowing. Please enjoy!  
> -Lizzy

* * *

Tora shivered as Poppy’s mouth trailed hot kisses down his neck, his breath catching as her tongue traced the crevice where his neck met his shoulder. She was on his lap, straddling him, and he clutched the swell of her ass in both hands. He sighed as her nimble hands tangled in his hair. Her mouth came back up to kiss him, her tongue slipping inside his mouth and swirling against his own. Tora melted against her, groaning aloud as she sucked in his lower lip and gently nibbled it. A hot satisfied huff of air escaped his lips as she pulled away, letting go of his lip with a wet smack. Tora felt Poppy lean back on him. He slitted his eyes open to watch as she grasped the corners of her shirt and slowly peeled it up and over her head. He could feel his pupils dilating as he caught sight of the swell of her breasts beneath purple lace. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips as her breasts jiggled free. He felt the soft fabric of her shirt brush his arm as it fell to the floor. Poppy bit her lower lip, reaching both of her hands back around herself. Tora sucked in a quick breath of air as she grasped the clasp of her bra, her big brown eyes glancing up at him beneath dark lashes as she began to pull it free, a lacey strap slipping down her shoulder.

“Poppy,” Tora breathed, “are you sure?” he asked, his eyes flitting across her face.

Poppy answered by pulling the bra from her chest, tossing it to the floor. She sat bare chested before him, but he didn’t look, his eyes were locked in her gaze, her coy expression giving way to a bold intensity. Tora gulped as Poppy reached down to grab his hand, bringing it up to her chest, placing it on her breast, inviting him to cup and fondle it. 

“Tora—” she moaned as his hand began to caress and tease her breast, “touch me, Tora, make me—BZZZZZT!”

“What?” he asked, looking up at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips pursed together.

“I said, I want you to— BZZZZZT!”

“You want me to—?”

“BZZZZZT. BZZZZZT. BZZZZZT.”

Tora groaned, clamping his eyes shut, trying to hold on to the dream that was evaporating from his mind.

“This better be fuck’n worth it,” he mumbled, groping for his buzzing phone. He was half awake, pawing at his vibrating pocket in the dark. His fingers found the corner of the phone and he tugged it out of his pocket.

Tora squinted, his eyes pulling back from the harsh light of his screen. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he peered at the blurred image of an avocado hula hooping, the name BOBBY slowly coming into focus as his sight adjusted to the light. _Poppylan?_ His eyes snapped open and he stood up in one motion, answering the call. He cradled the phone against his ear as he zipped up his pants, adjusting his hardening cock in the waistband of his boxers. 

“Pop—?” he shouted, his voice tinged with worry and confusion. 

“Oh my god, Tora—” Poppy’s voice came through on the line. “I need your help. Please! There’s something in—no! Stay away from me!” Poppy let out a shrill shriek. The sound of something shattering crashed through the phone followed by a thud and the slam of a door.

“What the fuck?” Tora barked, yanking on his shoes. “Poppy?” Tora breathed into the phone and listened in horror to her muffled shrieks. “Damnit,” he bellowed taking two Tora strides to the front door. “Poppy?”

“Please, hurry!” He heard her wale and the line went dead. Pure icy terror shot through Tora’s veins as he flew out of his apartment and leapt into his car. He slammed his foot on the gas and peeled out as fast as he could.

 _This was it, wasn’t it?_ he thought as he accelerated through the city, blowing through a red light. The moment everything caught up to him. The moment all of his shit came crashing down on her. _Fucking idiot_ , he cursed himself. If anything happened to Poppy he would never forgive himself. Pictures of terror flooded his mind, of dark figures bursting through her front door, of blood shot eyes raking over her body, of slithering hands snaking round her waist, of tight rope groping at her wrists, wet tears staining her beautiful face— Tora gritted his teeth and dialed Poppy, silently begging and praying for her to pick up. He held his breath, waiting for the ringing to be cut off by her laughing voice saying his name, but his call went straight to voicemail. _Goddamnit._ Tora threw his phone into the passenger seat and pressed the gas pedal to the floor, willing the car to go faster as he zoomed towards the outskirts of the city.

When he came to a screeching halt in front of her building, the light from her apartment was still on. _Good_ , he thought as he scrabbled over the low security fence surrounding the perimeter.

“Can’t even call this a security fence it’s so fucking low _,_ ” he grumbled aloud as he hopped down onto the pavement on the other side and sprinted for the entrance door.

Tora took the stairs two at a time, skidding around the corner on her floor, rushing up to her front door. He stopped suddenly, his heart hammering in his chest, no throbbing in his throat, making him queasy as dark thoughts rushed through his mind. Tora held his breath and set his jaw, willing his body to slow down while he listened for movement on the other side of the door. It was quiet, he couldn’t hear any sounds—no whimpers or hushes, no footfalls or whisperings. Reaching behind him, Tora gripped the cold black handle of his gun sticking out from where he had tucked it in the waist band of his pants. _Last resort_ , he told himself as he reached for the door knob with his other hand. He jiggled the handle. It was locked. Tora gritted his teeth, thinking about kicking it in. He pounded on the door instead, _thud, thud, thud._

“Bobby? Ya there? Open up, sweetheart,” he said, hoping his voice sounded less threatening than he meant it. Tora heard the light thump of footfalls and the scraping of locks sliding out of place and then the door was swinging in, Poppy standing before him.

She looked, fine? No blood. No physical signs of a struggle. She was wearing pink shorts and a white tank top. But her hair was a wild mess. Tora frowned, peering in around her, his eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. He noticed a smashed vase on the floor, the sharp shards scattered about the floor. His eyes slid back to her.

“Bobby?” Tora finally asked, letting his hand gripping the gun relax.

“Oh my god, I am so glad you’re here!” Poppy grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Do ya mind telling me what the hell is going on? I just rushed down here thinking ya were in the middle of being kidnapped,” Tora huffed, staring down at her.

Poppy glanced down, color rising into her cheeks. “Sorry, I think I over reacted on the phone. I didn’t mean to worry you,” she said sheepishly. She was nervously playing with a strand of hair. “It just freaked me out and I didn’t know what to do so I called you hoping you could take care of it for me and I—”

“Take care of what?” Tora questioned, arching a brow.

“A m—mouse,” Poppy mumbled, still stroking a strand of hair.

“A mouse,” he repeated. He didn’t know if he wanted to kiss her or yell at her, to laugh or to cry. Relief flooded him. It was just a mouse, a fucking mouse. No intruders here to haul her off. No men putting their grubby hands on her—just a mouse. He let out a huff of air, crossing his arms. “Ya telling me ya called me panicked in the middle of the goddamn night to come help because of a fucking mouse in ya apartment?”

Poppy nodded. “Basically? It ran over my feet, Tora. Over my feet! Do you know how violating that is?” She shivered, shaking her head and muttered, “ _so gross_.”

“And the vase?” he asked, motioning with his hand toward the sharded remnants of glass on the floor. 

“I panicked and threw it at it,” she said, looking down at her feet. “I liked that vase too,” she huffed. 

Tora turned his head away and stifled a laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?” Poppy fumed, glaring at Tora.

Tora shook his head, clearing his throat. “Sorry, Bobby, it’s just ya so damn cute when ya like this,” _and I’m fucking grateful that you’re okay_ , he said to himself. “So where is this mouse then, eh?” Tora asked, arms still crossed.

Poppy pointed to the closed door of the bathroom. “In there,” she said, “It scurried in after I threw the vase at it. I trapped it. I think.” Poppy scrunched up her nose.

 _Why are you so fucking cute?_ Tora thought to himself. He leaned against the front door, his arms still casually crossed across his chest. He let a slow smirk spread across his face. “Okay, I’ll help ya with this, but—”

“But everything comes with a price, I know,” Poppy interjected with a pout, “What _do_ you want?” she asked, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. They were shimmering in the soft glow of the apartment. Her hair framing her face. Her red lips parted and waiting.

Inside, Tora writhed. _You!_ he wanted to say, _all of you!_ but he gulped that thought down. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow, and rested his head against the door.

“Look, thug” Poppy began, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, “If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, the answer is no.”

Tora shrugged, still smirking. “I don’t know what ya think I’m thinking, but all I want is to eat ya soft, moist—“ Tora watched as the color quickly rose to Poppy’s cheeks and she let out a little wale as she threw a punch.

“Stop being gross!” she squeaked, hooking her arm towards his right shoulder.

Tora blocked her with his hand, snickering to himself. “Rice balls, sweetheart. They’re delicious. Ya know, ya really ought to let a guy finish his sentences.”

Poppy pulled her hand away, bawling it into a fist and clamping both arms across her chest. She huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she turned away from Tora.

“You’re insufferable!” she said, marching towards the bathroom door.

“You like it,” Tora teased, following her.

Poppy glanced over her shoulder, grinning at him. Her eyes bright and sparkling.

“Just a little,” she said with a laugh.

The big bad thug melted. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, he couldn’t help it when he was around her.

“So, back to this mouse,” he said, “I’m thinking we need to set a trap, of sorts.”

“Oh, yeah!” Poppy replied, excitement in her voice, “Like, set up a box with bait and a stick and string! Why didn’t I think of that?” she laughed, “We could trap it inside!” 

“Ah, no—I was thinking more of ya opening the door and I’ll jump out and whack it with a broom or something,” Tora said.

“Fine,” Poppy shrugged her shoulders, “But if it gets away, we try my idea.”

“Fine,” Tora replied, picking up a broom that was leaning against the wall. “I’ll stand here,” Tora pointed to the wall against the bathroom door, “And ya open the door, and when it comes out, I’ll get it. Got it?”

Poppy nodded, her face serious with determination. Tora nodded back, gripping the handle of the broom. He took a sharp inhale of breath as Poppy popped open the bathroom door and stepped aside. Tora raised the broom over his head, waiting for the mouse to rush out of the bathroom, ready to strike the moment he saw the little fucker scurry out from the shadows. He waited with baited breath, concentrating on the spot, his reflexes ready to bring the broom down in one swift motion. He waited—and waited, but the mouse didn’t show.

“I don’t know if it’s coming out,” Poppy whispered finally, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Tora said, lowering the broom. They both sank to the floor, sitting on either side of the open bathroom door. Tora laid the broom across his lap, his head falling back against the wall.

“What now?” Poppy asked, pulling at a strand of her hair, “I guess we could try and bait it?”

“Bobby, are ya sure ya need this taken care of tonight? We could get a real trap tomorrow, set it up—”

“No! I can’t sleep knowing it’s still in here with me,” she snipped, “Please.”

Tora looked over at her. Her face was pulled into a worried frown, her bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. _Goddamnit, I can’t say no to her when she’s looking at me like that_ , Tora said to himself. “Fine,” he said, “We’ll take care of this tonight. But Bobby—” Tora started.

“Tora—”

“I swear ya are gunna owe me—" he continued.

“Tora—”

“The biggest fuck’n rice ball on the fuck’n—”

“Tora!” Poppy hissed.

“What?” he said, turning to look at her. Poppy had her hand over her mouth. She pointed down at the space in between them. Tora looked down to see a small mouse sniffing at the threshold of the bathroom floor.

“Gotcha,” Tora whispered, swiftly raising the broom and bringing it down in one fluid movement.

_THWACK!_

Poppy let out a yelp as the broom made contact with the mouse. “Oh my god, Tora!” she said, as he lifted the broom away, “You killed it!”

Tora came up on his knees, inspecting his kill. “Well yeah! Isn’t that what ya wanted me to do?” he growled.

“Well yeah! But I didn’t think—”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m fucking wiped. Fuck if I’m going to stay up all night trying to coax a fucking mouse into a fucking box and release it back into the fucking wild at midnight.”

“I know, you’re right, I just feel sorry for it!” Poppy sniveled. 

“Feel sorry for it? Two minutes ago ya were huffing about how it _violated_ ya!”

“Well that was before you snuffed out its life so quickly!” she snapped back.

“It’s a fucking mouse, Bobby!”

“It had dreams, Tora!”

And the mouse did have dreams, dreams of being free, and warm, and safe. The mouse lay there unmoving while the two giants bickered back and forth. Ready to make it’s escape, the mouse sprung to life, leaping up and onto the biggest giant.

“OH MY FUCK’N GOD!” Tora yelled, swatting at the reanimated mouse scurrying up his arm, all six foot three of him stumbling backwards, sprawling out on the floor, a tangle of black hair and clothes thrashing, swiping at the mouse. “It fuck’n violated me!” Tora roared, shivering and patting at his clothes. 

Poppy clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughs. The mouse laid dazed on the carpet. Poppy snatched the waste basket from the bathroom and scooped the terrified mouse up in it.

“Alright, thug, no need to be frightened,” she teased, “I’ve got the big bad mouse.”

Tora sat up, looking up at Poppy standing before him, clutching the waste basket between her small hands. He could feel the heat of embarrassment rising into his face.

“Let’s get it outside,” he said, quickly standing to his feet.

Together they took the mouse downstairs, releasing it behind the dumpster.

“Be free! And don’t come back!” Poppy hollered after the mouse as it darted into the shadows.

Tora walked her back to her front door. Poppy unlocked the door to her apartment and stood there for a moment, nibbling on her bottom lip, glancing back at Tora over her shoulder. Tora shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“Thanks,” Poppy said, still clutching the waste basket, “It was really nice of you to come all the way out here to help. And I’m sorry for worrying you earlier.”

“S’okay,” Tora replied, gazing into her warm eyes, “Just, maybe give me a bit more information next time, alright?”

Poppy nodded, glancing down at the floor for a moment and then back up at Tora. She set the waste basket down inside the apartment and turned to face him fully. His heart leapt as she tilted her face up to him, her cheeks flushing. She took a step closer, closing the gap between their bodies. The sweater she had thrown on earlier slipped down over one shoulder, revealing her smooth creamy skin. Tora kept his hands clenched in his pants pockets, knowing he would have little self-control over them if he let them reach out and touch her, caress her, hold her.

“So,” she breathed, looking up at him, “Do you want that Tiger rice ball now or later?”

Tora gulped, taken off-guard by her boldness. “Poppy, I—” he sputtered, trying to find the right words to say. N _ow, and later, and always,_ he said to himself. He was grasping for time, to slow it down, halt it if he could. “Later,” he finally answered, “It’s late, ya should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she said, one hand behind her neck, “Rain check then.”

Poppy glanced away. She looked, disappointed? Sad? Tora felt his shoulders drop. He was too. He wished he could cup her face, run his thumb over her lips, whisper assurances in her ear.

“Hey,” he said. Poppy glanced back up at him. “Thanks for saving me from that mouse,” he winked. 

Poppy smiled, her eyes crinkling with it, her cheeks beaming with amusement. “Anytime,” she laughed, “Goodnight, Tora.”

“Night,” he replied, watching her step back inside the apartment, waiting to hear the click of the lock sliding into place. Tora turned away from the door, slowly walking down the five flights of stairs to the ground level. He walked straight to his car, glancing back only once to watch the lights in her apartment flick off.

He popped open the door to his car and slid inside, longing for sleep so he could pick back up where his dream left off. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lilydusk's guidelines for Fan Creations:
> 
> Fanwork creator is free to create any kinds of fan creations and share them on any public or private platform as long as the creator acknowledges that:  
> 1\. No profit is to be made from fan creation.  
> 2\. Any resemblance that the original piece bears to fan creation is coincidental and unintentional,  
> 3\. Fan creation is to be a transformative work, derived from a single idea, a single sketch, or a small percentage of the original piece.


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